


Another Life

by SisAngel



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Romance, Strong Female Characters, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:05:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4427759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisAngel/pseuds/SisAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Major spoilers for the series finale.</p>
<p>Sara receives a message that leads her to another life.</p>
<p>Sara-centric</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [truthtakestime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/truthtakestime/gifts).



> Scrappy, thank you for letting me tell you all of my plot bunnies, and for being equally excited about each one of them no matter how ridiculous they are. I love you dearly <3

Peter had called her the day after it happened.

He had tried to explain why he hadn't called that afternoon, but she had stopped him, barely holding on to her composure as she told him she understood. She thanked him for calling her at all, told him to let her know when the funeral was, and hung up. The moment the call was ended, a sob escaped her, shaking her to her core. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over effortlessly. With a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest she curled up in her desk chair, covered her mouth with her hand to silence herself, and wept. It shouldn't have hurt so badly. They had broken up months before, and despite the good terms on which they parted, she hadn't spoken to him since. And now, an indescribable ache inside her made her wish she had picked up the phone since she'd seen him last.

She knew that the funeral was going to be difficult. She'd figured the following weeks would be painful. What she didn't expect was the burning ache in her chest sparking up again every time she saw the Raphael print he had given her. It soon found a new home in the back of her closet. And then there was the skip of her heart every time she saw someone wearing a fedora. Over that she had no control, but lord she wished she did. And then it was little things, like the way someone spoke, or the twinkle in someone's eyes that reminded her of him. She kept up her strong exterior, never let her emotions show, but she couldn't go a day without thinking about him four different times, minimum. It got to where it became almost normal to suddenly be hit with a twinge of regret or a wave of grief. She had missed him before, but despite not believing in fairytales, some part of her had hoped that they would somehow end up together. But now that option, that hope, was gone, ripped away from her by a single bullet.

Her assistant knocking on her office door startled her out of her thoughts and forced her back into the present. Dhe greeted him with a fake smile. "Yes, Martin?"

"You have a message, Ms. Ellis."

Her brow furrowed as she took the envelope from him.

"It came by messenger."

"That's odd. Thank you, Martin."

The young man nodded and slipped out, shutting the door behind him. Sara studied the envelope in her hands. Something about the aged paper and her name written in perfect penmanship intrigued her. The envelope was hand-made, the calligraphy done with a steady hand. It almost made her think of... No. She took a deep breath to clear her mind. It had been a year already. She couldn't keep doing this. She turned it over and found it sealed with wax. The seal was the only thing simple about the envelope, being just a simple heart, but it was still lovely. Carefully she popped the wax off and pulled out the note inside. This paper was aged as well, the message written as beautifully as it was on the envelope.

My dearest Sara,

I'd never been one to believe in fate until I met you, because it was fate that kept us apart. I believe we were always meant to be together, we've just never met under the right circumstances. So if you will, please come to the following address at seven o'clock tonight and let us meet again. Maybe this time can be the start of another life.

With all my love,  
Victor Moreau

A chill ran through her. She could feel her pulse pounding through every inch of her body. Her eyes welled with tears. This couldn't be real. But the words... only they had known those words. Only they had known that name. Logically, it couldn't be him. But logically, it couldn't be anyone else. The clock on her desk read five. She quickly pulled up the address on her phone. It was at least an hour drive from her office.

Grabbing her bag, she left for the night.

~~~

She had had just enough time to go home and freshen up. Pulling up to the cottage, her dashboard clock read 7:10 and she grinned. Getting out of the car, she heard light piano music filling the country air, emanating from the glowing back yard. Skipping the front door all together, she instead took the path of loose gravel around to the back of the house.

The moment she saw the back yard, it took her breath away. Tiny white lights were strung above the yard, from the roof of the cottage to the massive trees at the other end of the sizable yard, creating a glowing ceiling over the bright green grass. In the middle of the yard was a table and two chairs, an exquisite looking meal laid out across the tabletop. And sitting at the table, his back to her, was a familiar looking figure. He was hunched over the table, looking positively defeated. She stifled her tears of relief, swallowing hard before she spoke to make sure that her voice was steady.

"I thought I should make you sweat a little."

He started, shooting up from the table to face her. She thought her heart was going to explode with emotion the moment she saw his blue eyes lit by the thousands of lights, and his signature smile curling the corners of his mouth. In a few steps they were close enough to touch, but she kept her hands to herself, and so he did as well.

"It's the least you deserve after the year you put me through," she whispered, her eyes welling up against her will.

His smile faltered. "I'm sorry, Sara. I can expl-"

Her first connected with his jaw, knocking him back a step. He sputtered in shock, looking at her as he touched the spot that would surely bruise later.

"Sara-"

And then she was grabbing him by the lapels and pulling him into a hard, desperate kiss. He relaxed into it instantly, his warm hands coming up to tangle in her hair. She kissed him deeply, taking control of the motions, and he let her. In one kiss she released all the anger, sadness, and guilt that had been eating at her since she received the call from Peter. Neal Caffrey might be dead, but Victor Moreau was alive and well, and he kissed just the same.

She finally released him, smiling when she saw the dazed but pleased look on his face.

"It's lovely to meet you, Victor." She smiled, letting go of his lapels and smoothing them down. "My name is Sara."


End file.
